Page 42 of Bound to the Wolf
He cranked the handle under the sprayer, and the water turned off. Reece reached for the curtain and froze.
What the hell was he thinking?
He couldn’t open the shower curtain while he was there in all his naked glory. His wolf harrumphed and seemed to think that flashing Delainey might make her change her mind about the things they werenottalking about. At least he wasn’t insistent right now.
Reece had gotten into the shower and then taken his clothes off and thrown them outside the tub. He’d been halfway in a daze. Downstairs, he couldn’t even name who was in the diningroom when they’d walked in. His mind had been a mess of exhaustion and hunger. He had mostly been following Delainey ever since.
A dark hand, nails still flecked with bright blue nail polish he hadn’t noticed earlier, jutted into the back of the shower with a fluffy white towel hanging from her fingers.
“Thanks,” Reece took the towel and pulled it into the shower, his wet hair dripping a line of water down his forearm. It was still hard to talk at times, like his wolf had control of his throat and didn’t want to bother with something as stupid and annoying as words.
Their fingers didn’t touch, and Reece regretted the lack of contact.
Delainey jerked her hand back and bumped the curtain in her haste, making it shift for a moment before it settled back into place.
Reece took his time getting as dry as he could before wrapping the towel around his waist and pulling open the curtain. Six feet was nothing; he had learned over the last few days.
He and Delainey had to shuffle awkwardly around each other so she could step over the base of the tub into the already damp shower. The bathroom was barely big enough for one person, let alone two, maybe five feet between the tub and the opposite wall, with a pedestal sink wedged into the corner and a small oval mirror above it that was already fogged over.
Delainey kept her eyes locked on his nose, as if she was fighting everything within herself to keep from looking downward. Reece wasn’t sure which part of himself was tempted to drop the towel and test her resolve, but he behaved.
“This will be quick,” Delainey told him. “I’ll deal with my hair later, once we’ve taken care of this manacle thing.” She plucked at one of her curls and flicked it away in annoyance.
“What? Why?”
Delainey raised her eyebrows. “It takes more than five minutes, buddy.”
He didn’t ask more questions. As she snapped the curtain shut, he heard rustling fabric, and she dumped her dirty clothes in a pile outside the shower.
Oh, this was worse. So much worse.
Delainey was naked and within arm’s reach, with only a shower curtain standing between them. The shower kicked on and covered the sound of his slightly desperate groan as he imagined what the rivulets would look like over her brown skin, the way water would cling to her full breasts and travel lower and lower to that juncture between her thighs that he was desperate to taste.
This was torture. At least she wasn’t a shifter and couldn’t smell his growing desire.
Reece jerked his gaze away from the curtain that, from this side of the bathroom, didn’t reveal a damn thing, and looked down at the floor. One of the tiles was cracked, a jagged line tapering off to a curve where it met the normal edge. He counted all of those tiles twice.
It didn’t do a damn thing to put images of a naked Delainey out of his mind.
Then he noticed the two piles of clothes sitting on the counter next to the sink. For him: a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that must have come from Nico. A little tight, but they would do. Reece made quick work of changing from the towel into the clothing. He was a bit broader than Nico, and the shirt was tight across his shoulders, but it was clean and soft, and it hadn’t spent three days on his back while he hiked through the forest and tried not to die. The sweats sat low on his hips and fell a couple of inches short at the ankle, and the whole outfit had the stretched, borrowed look of a man wearing someone else’s skin.
The water turned off.
“Towel,” Delainey prompted after a moment.
Oh, right.
Reece grabbed the clean towel sitting beside her pile of clothes and handed it over. He expected her to get out of the shower, but he just heard the scrape of soft fabric against skin as the curtain rustled a few times. He closed his eyes to prevent himself from even trying to sneak a peek.
A few minutes later, Delainey cleared her throat. “Could you hand me my clothes?” Apparently, she was going to stay in the safety of the shower for as long as she could.
It was getting clammy in the room. Condensation ran in thin streams down the small oval mirror and dripped from the ceiling onto the back of his neck.
Reece handed over her clothes and waited. A minute later, she pulled the shower curtain aside and stepped out in her own pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Her hair was held back by a thick band that had tamed some of the damage inflicted over the last few days.
She looked good. Really, really good.
Reece forced himself to look away. He felt the manacle on his wrist and imagined the burning sensation. They’d be rid of it soon. They just had to make it through tonight.
